Today was the middle day of the three consecutively warm sunny days that tantalised us with the notion that Spring had truly arrived, and judging by the activity here today it had a lot of our wildlife fooled too. The sky was clear and that almost-unbelievable shade of deep blue, the birds were singing and best of all, it was warm!

WOODLAND PATH

A few metres along the Woodland Path of my patch is an untidy-looking stretch, divided by the narrow path, where missing trees have opened up the canopy, letting in the light and warmth of the sun. Somewhat mysteriously, it holds great allure for diverse species of insects, some of which at certain times can be found here in surprising numbers. At the right time on the right day, ten minutes spent in this ‘hotspot’ can be as productive as two hours spent ranging over the rest of the site.

11:44 Today I was here at the right time to see a surprising amount of insects. Most prolific were hoverflies in all shapes and sizes from big and bulky to teeny-tiny and dainty.

Eristalis sp hoverfly

Syrphus sp.

There were few flowers here for nectaring upon, so that wasn’t the attraction for the majority of the hoverflies; I caught just one on the tiny flowers of Dog’s mercury. There were dozens of this small black and yellow striped species here, all very fresh and shiny and mostly basking on the sun-warmed leaves of brambles and nettles.

One side of the ‘hotspot’ is open to sunlight, clear of trees but sheltered by those standing behind it and by large shrubs of laurel and holly on either side. A large tangle of bramble fills the gap in the vegetation and is the only barrier between you and the Expressway below at the bottom of an almost-vertical slope. (Only joking, there’d be plenty of trees to stop you if you fell!) On the other side is a large patch of nettles, the aforementioned Dog’s mercury, more bramble and a pretty patch of periwinkle, all growing through a ground-covering of ivy.

Periwinkle

Dog’s Mercury

A lone Tree bumblebee flew in, visited a couple of the periwinkle flowers then stopped to bask on a last-year’s half-eaten bramble leaf. I think it was a male (no pollen baskets) and was looking a bit the worse for wear. He seemed to have a burden of mites and I wondered if exposing them to warm sun might dislodge them. I’ve seen birds do that.

A smaller bee caught my eye as it came to rest on an ivy leaf. I didn’t realise what it was until I saw my photograph, then was excited to see it was a Hairy-footed Flower Bee, this one a male and my first record of this species here.

Hairy-footed Flower Bee – Anthophora plumipes (male)

Hairy-footed Flower Bee (m)-Anthophora plumipes

A species common and widespread in much of England and Wales, especially in towns, cities and villages. Often nests in the soft mortar and exposed cob of old walls, but occasionally will nest in the ground, preferring bare compacted clay soils. Flies from late February to mid-June, and is particularly partial to Lungwort (Pulmonaria) flowers.

Males and females look very different from one another: the female resembles a small, black bumblebee with orange-red hairs on the hind leg and a rapid-darting flight; she’ll often approach a flower with her long tongue extended. Males are mostly brown with a dark tail (fresh specimens are gingery). Cream markings on face distinguish it from all bumblebees.They are often among the first bees of the year to emerge and often hover in front of flowers and when pursuing females.

Another little bee came to rest on a nettle leaf, this one I recognised as an Ashy mining bee and another male.

Ashy mining bee – Andrena cineraria (male)

Ashy mining bee (m)-Andrena cineraria

A distinctive and obvious spring-flying solitary bee. Females are black, and have two broad ashy-grey hairbands across the thorax. Males emerge well before the females. They look similar, but their thorax is entirely covered with less dense grey hairs, and there’s a pronounced tuft of white hairs on the lower face. Species has a single flight period each year from early April until early June. Nests are constructed in the ground; entrances are surrounded by a volcano-like mound of excavated spoil; often in dense aggregations in lawns, flower beds, mown banks and in field margins.

And where there are mining bees there are those who would prey upon them….. Bee-flies: quirkily-cute in appearance but not good to know if you’re a hard-working mining bee; they’ll spy out your nest-hole and craftily kick their eggs inside with those long legs, then later their hatched larvae will feast on yours.

Bee-fly-Bombilius major

Wasps were out on the prowl too; I didn’t get a clear enough image to tell if this was a German or Common Wasp – the latter have a distinctive anchor mark on their face; this image is a bit fuzzy.

12:07 I could have lingered longer, but birds were singing, I’d been serenaded by a Song thrush and a Robin as I stood watching insects, Blue tits twittered on all sides and I was keen to see what else was happening.

Bluebells are beginning to flower and offer nectar to those that can reach it, there’s also Greater Stitchwort and lots of Dog Violets. A male Orange-tip butterfly raced past me over the bluebells and through the trees, clearly on the trail of a female and not stopping for an instant.

Greater Stitchwort – Stellaria holostea

There are masses of glorious glossy golden yellow lesser celandines shining in the sunlight too.

I stopped to admire the celandines lining a section of the path and not at all concerned by my presence, a Blue tit perched above me and began to sing.

Beneath him dozens of shiny new flies arrived to bask on soft sun-warmed new bramble leaves.

There’s one special spot I know where Wood Anemones light up the woodland floor like fallen stars, turning their faces to the sun

and another where those of the shamrock-leaved Wood sorrel shyly hide theirs.

Over the boundary fence, the formidable thorny boundary hedge of gorse and blackthorn is softened now with their fragrant gold and white blossoms.

I heard a bird singing, a short loud burst of notes that I thought at first was a Wren, but it wasn’t quite right. I’d forgotten that another tiny bird, the Goldcrest also has a disproportionately loud song, remembering when he broke cover and flitted about in shrubbery in front of me. He wasn’t going to oblige me with a photograph, much too busy! So I stood gazing upwards for a while – you can’t get too much beautiful blue sky…

… or pretty blossom, can you?

WOODLAND TRAIL

12:58 There’s another hotspot around the junction of my Woodland Path with the reserve’s Woodland Trail, this one for birds. Here there is a territory of both Blackcap and Chiffchaff so there is the possibility of hearing if not seeing both species here. Today I was lucky; I heard the Blackcap’s song as I approached and walking slowly and as quietly as I was able I spotted him. He continued to sing but moved restlessly through the branches as I got nearer then flew off across the other side of the track.

While he sang from behind foliage over there I watched a pretty female Tawny mining bee feast on Blackthorn blossom.

Then the Blackcap came back to where he’d started, so I think perhaps his red-headed mate may be on their nest somewhere close by.

This gorgeous gorse is below his singing tree. It would make a safe place to nest and the flowers would attract insects for dinner.

I had heard a Chiffchaff singing nearby too but was pleasantly surprised when he appeared, continuing his song while flitting about amongst the twiggy branches searching for insects.

13:21 Further along the trail I spotted a flutter of orange – a lovely fresh Comma butterfly basking on dry leaves at the edge of the path. As I watched it moved, (look away now if you’re squeamish) onto a thankfully dryish dog poo deposit. I had to take the picture as it nicely presented its underside showing off the distinctive white mark for which it is named.

The disturbed ground of the pathsides supports some of the ‘weedier’ wildflowers like dandelions which provide important nectar when there’s not much else in flower.

You’d be very unlucky not to hear and see a Robin singing along here, there seems to be one at regularly spaced intervals. They sit and watch out over the track then dart out to pounce on any potential prey they may spot. This one had been singing but stopped to watch me.

I waited to see if he’d start singing again and was distracted by a bird whistling loudly. I scanned around searching for whatever was making the sound, one I didn’t recognise at all but that sounded to be being made by quite a large bird. After a few minutes the whistler appeared and to my amusement turned out to be …. a Great Tit! Of course it was, one of the basics of birdsong recognition is ‘when you don’t recognise it or haven’t heard it before, chances are it’ll be a Great Tit’; they have an incredible repertoire of sounds to call upon. I was thankful to him for keeping me in that spot though, as this gorgeous Greater Spotted Woodpecker flew onto a tree trunk literally right in front of me.

The Woodpecker stayed there, keeping a watchful eye on me. This bird is a female and is holding something small in her beak, so I imagine she has a nest nearby and was unwilling to reveal it. I moved away quickly, thanking her for the photo opportunity as I did.

Great Spotted Woodpeckers are about the same size as Starlings. Their plumage denotes their age and sex. Juvenile birds have red foreheads that are replaced by black as they moult in the autumn. Adult males then have a red nape while females have no red on their head at all.

The Lesser Celandines have been late flowering this Spring but are glorious now and more prolific than I’ve seen them before. It’s not just the flowers that are prolific, so too were hoverflies and Bee-flies seemed to be everywhere.

Approaching the entrance to the meadow another Robin, which looks as though it is singing, but was actually ‘ticking me off’, let me know it didn’t appreciate my disturbing it.

THE UPPER MEADOW (ADDER’S FIELD)

The grass of the meadow was cut back hard last autumn and so far there’s not much happening there yet, but the grass is beginning to grow and the cowslips are starting to come out. They’ll be later on the more exposed ‘downland’ side of the hill.

Another Bee-fly settled on an exposed rock in the pathway, fluttering its wings rapidly and making flicking movements with its legs as they do when depositing their eggs, but there was no sign of a mining bee nest anywhere near, so not sure what it was doing.

Summer Rainfall Prediction:

If oak is out before the ash, there’ll be a splash ; if ash is out before the oak there’ll be a soak…

Keep the brollies handy, looks like ash is furthest on so far….!

Wriggling across the still-damp ground on the way to the Summit Trail was an earthworm. Double jeopardy came to mind – exposure to warm sunshine and hungry birds; foolish worm.

Last year I noticed spots along the trail here where Mining Bees were making nests. having seen a few about today I kept an eye out for more signs of their activity and spotted these little ‘volcanoes’, evidence of their presence. I waited a while but no bees showed, so I don’t know which species had made them, but I think maybe Tawny Mining Bees.

THE SUMMIT

It was cooler and breezier up here. I walked carefully, hoping there may be Small Tortoiseshell butterflies basking on the bare earth of the path, but not today, although I did see two busily chasing one another at speed as they disappeared over the edge of the cliff.

The mountains and the distant Conwy valley were veiled by a misty haze.

The blackthorn is smothered with blossom and looking beautiful. It will be interesting to see how much of it gets pollinated and develops as fruit this autumn. Sloe gin comes to mind.

Blackthorn – Prunus spinosa

The path back down to the Woodland Trail felt almost bridal with falling petals showering down onto the ground like confetti. A pretty way to end this account of a lovely walk.

Recent outings have been ambles rather than rambles as I’m getting back to fit after being laid low for a few weeks by some kind of virus, which also accounts for the recent absence from blogging. I’ve found it most frustrating, especially at this time of year too when there’s so much going on. But I’m keen to catch up and already have a lot to share, so here’s a mostly-pictorial view of Bryn Euryn as I saw it on two beautiful sunny-day ambles in the last week of April.

There are a lot of Ash trees on the Bryn, thankfully all of which appear to be healthy at the present time and they seem to have had an exceptional amount of flowers this year. The flowers start off a dark pinkish-purple but now most of them are over now and the clusters are mostly green.

Ash tree flowers are almost over

Some trees have produced so many flowers that now the clusters are green, from a distance it gives the illusion that they are in leaf.

Spent flower clusters give ash trees the illusion of being in leaf

Looking more closely at the tree in the photo above, there are a few leaves already appearing.

New ash leaves opening

Naturally, once I had seen the ash leaves I had then to check out the oaks to guage if we are in for a ‘splash or a soak’ this summer. On the day I took the photo of the ash the oaks were all in tight bud.

21/4/15- Oak leaves in tight bud

But three sunny days later I was amazed to see that leaves had begun to open and not only that, insects had already moved in.

24/4/15-New oak leaves with insects

For anyone that has no idea what that last bit was about, a traditional English way of predicting whether the summer will be wet or dry was based on whether the oak or the ash trees opened their leaves first.

“When the oak is before the ash, then you will only get a splash; when the ash is before the oak, then you may expect a soak “

So things appear to be fairly even in the rainfall prediction stakes so far.

Robin singing from high in an ash tree

It was a perfect spring day, the sun was shining the sky was blue and a host of birds were singing. Along the quarry field edge the vegetation is growing up quickly although there’s not much flowering yet. Celandines are beginning to fade and some dandelions have already set seed.

Vegetation on woodland edge-Lesser Celandines, nettles & arum

Cuckoo Pint or Lords and Ladies-Arum maculatum

There was a single male Orange Tip butterfly racing along at their normal break-neck speed and one female Small White that obligingly settled on a bramble.

Small White (f) on bramble leaf

Tiny male Chequered Hoverfly-Melanstoma scalare (enlarged)

I was quite surprised to see a good number of hoverflies about, all looking shiny and fresh, so I assume they were newly-emerged.

I think this is Eupeodes latifasciatus

As I was checking out a splash of colour that turned out to be from this escaped garden plant, I was happy to see this little bee-fly arrive to take its nectar. One of my favourite insects, they look cute and furry but are classified under the general heading of ‘robber-flies’ and their larvae live as parasitoids in the nests of mining bees.

An escaped garden plant attracting a bee-fly

There are two species of pretty blue speedwell flowering here, one is the familiar Common Field Speedwell

Common Field Speedwell- Veronica persica

and the other is the even tinier-flowered Ivy-leaved Speedwell.

Ivy-leaved speedwell-Veronica hederifolia

You could easily overlook this rather sprawling untidy plant, and you’d probably pull it out of your garden as a ‘weed’, but as with all speedwells, on closer inspection its tiny flowers are really pretty.

Close-up of flower and leaves of Ivy-leaved Speedwell

In the woods the tree canopy is still open but there are small new leaves on some trees.

24/4/15-Tree canopy still open – new beech leaves in foreground

Wood anemones are still flowering

Wood anemone-Anemone nemorosa

and there was one patch of Wood Sorrel.

Wood Sorrel-Oxalis acetosella

Harts Tongue fern fronds unfurling

Garlic Mustard is beginning to flower- if you never have, try crushing a leaf they really do smell of garlic…

Garlic Mustard – Alliaria petiolata

and another plant that doesn’t smell too pleasant, Dog Mercury, is also displaying its spikes of rather insignificant small pale green, petalless flowers.

Dog Mercury – Mercurialis perennis

There are still ivy berries on some plants, although those left are probably still there because they are difficult for their chief consumers, blackbirds and bulky old wood pigeons to reach.

Ivy berries

In the open wildflower meadow cowslips are blooming. I love their graceful fragrant flowers and the sight of them always takes me back to childhood when it was still OK to pick bunches of them and we used them as part of the floral decorations for the school May Day celebrations.

The views from the Bryn are always worth the steep climb up to the top and change according to the season, the weather and the time of day. The southerly side overlooks part of Rhos-on-Sea and part of Colwyn Bay town, divided by the duel-carriageway of the A55, whose traffic noise can be loud and rather intrusive, so not the spot to seek peace and quiet. Beyond is Colwyn Bay and inland a patchwork of woodlands, golden gorse and neat farmed fields set upon rolling hillsides sloping around and down to the Conwy river and estuary.

The gorgeous view from the south side of Bryn Euryn (click to enlarge)

I was heading now towards the true summit, where the not-too-beautiful triangulation (trig) point marks the highest point.

The trig point on the summit of Bryn Euryn looking south to south-easterly (ish)

Last year there was an impressive patch of at least a hundred Early Purple Orchids on the approaching grassy slope (behind the other side of the rocky bit in the photograph), but this year although there are still a good number there are a lot less. Having said that, those I saw are beautiful specimens, of good height and their stems thick with flowers. The success of Orchids is affected by seasonal weather, they are affected by drought, numbers may vary even in areas they otherwise frequent, which is part of their allure of course.Their less than predictable appearance and their wonderfully exotic beauty combine to make each discovery just as exciting as it was last year or the year before.

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I can still remember the excitement of discovering my first Early Purple Orchid, growing exactly where it should be, on the floor of the old woodland next to our house. I was probably about aged ten at the time and had no idea what it was, but it looked very special to me and I couldn’t wait to look it up in my ‘Observer’s Book of Wild Flowers’, which I still treasure because I love the descriptions written by the lady author of the book. I would quote it here but it’s currently in a box in a storage unit in Spain, so I’ll have to manage without for now.

Early Purple Orchid– Orchis mascula

Early Purple Orchids-Orchis mascula

In flower from April to June, the Early Purple Orchid is a species of old broadleaved woodlands, where they are generally widespread, but they also occur in rich grasslands, on road verges, on limestone pavement and on heathy ground in the South and West of the British Isles.

‘Therewith fantastic garlands did she make

Of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies and long purples

That liberal shepherds give a grosser name’

But our cull-cold maids do dead-men’s fingers call them’.

It is claimed that when William Shakespeare wrote those lines in Hamlet, his ‘long purples’ referred to the Early-purple Orchid. The lines were spoken by Gertrude and referred to the coronet which Ophelia was wearing when she drowned.

A short-medium perennial that can reach 40cm, the stem is also often flushed with purple. There are usually 3-5 unstalked basal leaves, oblong in shape, pointed, parallel-veined and glossy green blotched with purple.

Flower colour can vary in shade from quite a dark purplish-red to pink or even white and are distributed in dense or loose spikes of between 10-30 flowers. Each flower has a narrow purple bract, purplish-grey ovary, three sepals and three petals.

Flowers of Early Purple Orchid

Side sepals spread backwards, upper one joins to the upper two petals to form a hood; lower petal forms tri-lobed spurred crimson-dotted lip, 8-12mm long. At the back of the flower one unstalked anther holds two pollen masses on stalks that adhere to heads of visiting insects for cross-pollination; below the anther the stigma surface receives pollen brought from other flowers.

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A few minutes taking in the view more or less east towards the mountains on the edge of Snowdonia , then onwards and downwards via the grassy slope on the north side of the hill.

The A55 snakes towards the Conwy River & Estuary with views of Snowdonia beyond

The rough grassy area was, as I’d hoped, generously sprinkled with Cowslips. Not as showy as the Orchids or as bright as the Rockroses, but with a special understated beauty of their own. I was slightly concerned I may have missed them at their best as they are flowers I associate more with late April-early May, but thanks to the late start to Spring this year I caught them just in time before they start to ‘go over’.

A field full of Cowslips, their heads held aloft on stiff stems were dancing in the wind like little flags

Cowslip -Primula veris

I have a great affection for Cowslips and seeing them growing in numbers in a grassy meadow takes me back to my childhood in an instant. In Northamptonshire, where I grew up in the 50s and 60s, lovely golden-yellow cowslips were numerous, particularly in the damper grass meadows grazed by cows. One of life’s little treats back in the day was to pull a flower from its little green sack and suck the nectar from the base of the tube. And before it became necessary to ban the picking of wild flowers, we used to pick bunches of them for the house as they have nice long stems and looked lovely in a jam jar on the kitchen windowsill. We picked them to add to garlands and to decorate the ‘throne’ for the May Queen during our school’s Mayday celebrations. Occasionally we even got to pick lots of them to be made into Cowslip wine.

Cowslip- Primula veris

I assure you though, it wasn’t our picking that caused the Cowslip’s serious decline, we couldn’t possibly have picked even all of those growing in a single field. It had much more to do with the rise of intensive farming and old grassland being ploughed over to create more space for growing other crops.

Thankfully the plant’s numbers are on the rise again, partly due to raised awareness but probably owing more to the sowing of seed on roadside verges and in wildflower meadows. So once again the Cowslip can raise its graceful nodding heads above the grass blades and be counted in generous numbers once again. I won’t be picking any though, just taking photographs.

The leaves of the Cowslip are wrinkly and hairy and form a basal rosette, similar to those of the Primrose.

The yellow-orange flowers (8-15mm) are held in a one-sided umbelwhich is borne on a softly hairy, sturdy stem. The individual flowers are comprised of five joined petals, each flower bearing orange spots in the centre, and are deliciously scented.

Cowslips and plaintains

A final gaze at the view from here over the tops of the trees below, across the golf course to Penrhyn Bay and on the horizon the Little Orme skirted on its left side by the road to Llandudno climbing Penrhyn Hill.

The local nature reserve on Bryn Euryn is a popular venue for a wide variety of walkers and is not usually the place I head for if I fancy a long peaceful walk. But, if you happen to get the timing right there are occasions when you can meander around and almost have the place to yourself. So it was on a damp afternoon a couple of weeks ago when I went there just to see what there was to see.

The small meadow next to car park was golden with dandelions that were attracting the attention of a number of bumblebees.

Dandelion – taraxacum officinale -visited by a white-tailed bumblebee

Some of the flowers have already gone to seed.

Dandelion seed head

Harts Tongue ferns are a feature of the local woodlands here and already quite well grown.

Harts tongue fern. The plants grow on neutral and lime-rich substrates, including moist soil and damp crevices in old walls, most commonly in shaded situations but occasionally in full sun.

The new leaves are a bright shiny green

Harts Tongue Fern – Phyllitis scolopendrium. The plants are unusual in the genus of ferns as they have simple, undivided fronds. The leaves are 10–60 cm long and 3–6 cm broad, with sori (A sorus (pl. sori) is a cluster of sporangia (structures producing and containing spores) that are arranged in rows perpendicular to the rachis. ) In plants a rachis is the main axis of the inflorescence or spike. In ferns it is also the part of the axis to which the pinnae are attached.

The plant’s common name derives from the shape of its fronds, being thought to resemble a deer’s tongue: hart was an alternative word for “stag”, from the Old English heorot, “deer”. The sori pattern is reminiscent of a centipede’s legs, and scolopendrium is Latin for “centipede”.

This fern was recommended as a medicinal plant in folk medicine as a spleen tonic and for other uses.

Whilst still in the cover of woodland I spotted a Long-tailed Tit foraging amongst tree branches and a Song Thrush out on the path also hunting. I saw and heard several Robins, Blue and Great Tits and Chiffchaff. A family of Magpie were also out and about, five of them up near the summit and there were Greenfinch lower down around the carpark.

I changed my route slightly today, mainly to avoid the uphill track through the woodland which was very muddy and quite slippery, choosing instead a surfaced one that leads around the base of the Bryn (hill). Happily, being more open and less shaded, there were plants growing here I would otherwise have missed.

Wild strawberry plants growing along the edge of a woodland track

Wild strawberry – Fragaria vesca very much resembles a miniature garden strawberry and similarly produces delicious tiny sweet berries. It is a very common plant throughout the British Isles and Western Europe found growing on all but strongly acid or waterlogged soils.

Hairy stalks bear 3 oval leaflets, also hairy and a bright shiny green. The leaflets have strong side veins, are broadest above the middle with sharp marginal teeth.

There is a similar-looking plant, the Barren Strawberry, which has duller grey-green leaves.

I was really pleased to find a Welsh poppy in flower along here, I used to have them in my garden when we lived in South Wales and loved them, especially where they seeded themselves amongst blue forget-me-nots.

Welsh Poppy -papaver cambricum

The Welsh Poppy has been adopted as the logo of the Welsh political party, Plaid Cymru

The Welsh poppy (Meconopsis cambrica) is a perennial plant native to south-western England, Wales, Ireland and Western Europe. Its favoured habitat is damp, shady places on rocky ground, and although its common name is ‘welsh poppy’, it is also native to south-western England, Wales, Ireland and Western Europe. In its most westerly locations, it is increasingly found on more open ground with less cover. It is also especially well adapted to colonising gaps and crevices in rocks and stones, which has enabled it to colonise urban environments, sometimes growing between paving slabs and at the edges of walls.

A grey squirrel paused in its tracks on a tree branch, keeping one eye fixed on me

Another favourite plant from my childhood, the cowslip, was also present here growing along the path edges, so I was sure there would be more once I reached the grassy slope of the lower hillside. I was not disappointed, there were beautiful masses of them.

According to folklore, cowslips first grew from the ground where St Peter dropped his keys and this is recorded in the French, German, and Old English names (clef de Saint Pierre, Schlusselblumen, and Key of Heaven respectively). The name cowslip, on the other hand, derives from the old English name, cūslyppe or cowslop, because the plant used to grow best in meadows frequented by herds of cows.

The species name vēris means “of spring”.

Despite its pungent choice of habitat, the flowers of the cowslip have a lovely, almost-apricot scent and not so long ago were sufficiently and reliably abundant to allow them to be picked and used to make deliciously fragrant cowslip wine. (Now of course it is illegal to pick flowers from the wild so if you want to try it you’d have to find an alternative supply.) Cowslip is frequently found on more open ground than Primula vulgaris (primrose) including open fields, meadows, and coastal dunes and clifftops. Nowadays the seeds are often included in wild-flower seed mixes used to landscape motorway banks and similar civil engineering earth-works where the plants may be seen in dense stands.

Herbal medicine

The traditional medicinal uses of cowslip are widespread and the different parts of the plant are still commonly used to treat a variety of complaints as wide ranging as lung disorders, insomnia, gout,arthritis and anxiety. The herb is also reputed to have beneficial effects on the heart . (Active ingredients include saponin glycosides, including primulic acid, primulaveroside, and primveroside; volatile oil; tannins; flavonoids, including luteolin, apigenin, kaempferol, and quercetin; phenolic glycosides). Its flowers and leaves are rich in vitamin C and beta-carotene, potassium, calcium, sodium and salicylates which help strengthen the immune system through its antioxidant properties and by lowering the cholesterol level.

Cowslip can effectively alleviate headaches but is not recommended to those who are allergic to aspirins, because of its high quantity of salicylates (the main basis for aspirin).

This herb is also used in cosmetics, used as an ingredient in face creams for its regenerating effects.

The cowslips were wonderful, but an even bigger treat were the orchids, masses of pretty early purple ones.

Orchids are always a special sight, especially the first ones to flower, the Early Purple Orchid

Early Purple Orchid-Orchis mascula

Finally lifting my eyes from ground level and the flowers, I was surprised to realise that the highest peak in our view from here across to the mountains of Snowdonia actually had snow on it.

The view to the snow-capped peaks of the Carneddau Mountains

Hawthorn blossom flowering in a sheltered spot

New oak leaves

Amongst some shrubby bushes, including the hawthorn, I came across a little flower I had almost forgotten about as it is so long since I saw it last, the delicate white-flowered Woodruff.

Woodruff- Galium odoratum

Woodruff –Galium odoratum is an herbaceous perennial plant native to Europe, North Africa and Western Asia. Other common names include woodruff, sweet woodruff, and wild baby’s breath.

It grows to 30-50 cm (12-20 ins.) high but it is a weak-stemmed that is often found lying flat along the ground or supported by other plants it prefers partial to full shade in moist, rich soils.

The flowers sweet smell is due to the presence of the odiferous agent coumarin; this scent intensifies as the plant wilts that persists on drying, and the dried plant is traditionally used in pot-pourri and as a moth deterrent. It is also used, mainly in Germany, to flavour May wine (called “Maiwein” or “Maibowle” in German), syrup for beer (Berliner Weisse), ice cream, and medicinally as a herbal tea with gentle sedative properties, but beware, high doses can cause headaches, due to the toxicity of coumarin.